What Rain Washes Away
by Bellalyse Winchester
Summary: Memories can be dangerous things.


**MY LOVELIES! I've missed you SO MUCH! This is my first proper fanfic in ages, and I'm so sorry! :/ In a bit of an emotional rut right now, won't pester you with the details but needless to say I'm totally drained, trying to be positive :)  
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**Well, either way, enjoy!**

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><p>There was still rain saturated on the sidewalks when Donna Noble stepped outside into the world. There was as well the distinct smell of rain rising from the ground; it had been a while since they'd had a good, strong, English rain. She couldn't remember it raining today, though she tried; she liked the rain.<p>

She'd been having trouble remembering a lot lately. Shaun told her she was fine, she just needed a bit of time off. It wasn't as if they really needed her income; they still, despite a few extravagant purchases, had a good portion of their wedding money left, and with Shaun still working they were set for as long as the fog was still there in her head.

Rory had agreed with Shaun. It was such a blessing, having a doctor live just next door. He explained to her that it was just a buildup of stress, not at all unusual.

She certainly felt unusual, however; it was often as if she wasn't sure why she was here. She had the strangest dreams sometimes, and woke with a banging head and—on a few rare, terrifying occasions—no idea who the man lying next to her was. She always remembered, in the end, but she couldn't shake the apprehension she felt crawling up her spine every moment of every day.

She stared at the home she had just stepped from. Faux red bricks climbed the walls all the way to the black roof. Something was wrong.

She hadn't driven in ages. When she turned the key to her Rolls, it felt foreign in her hand. She was confident in her ability, however, and in an hour she returned home, safe and sound. From the back seat she snatched up a few bags of things she had purchased, and began her work.

It was Rory, pulling up to the curb, who saw with shock and urgency what she was doing.

"Donna—Donna!"

She went rigid, and he leapt over the car door, reaching her just in time to catch her as her knees gave way. Looking into her eyes, he saw she was still lucid, blinking dazedly up at him.

"Rory?" she asked. "What are you doing?"

"Me?" he asked. "Donna, you're—" He stopped, looking at her front door. The white door had been haphazardly splattered with watery, blue paint. There was a bowl full of the paint in her left hand, and a brush in her right. "What are _you_ doing? Come on, I'll put the kettle on."

"No, I—I have to do _this_." Donna looked seriously at the door, concentrating as if trying to recapture something long lost. "It's _wrong."_

"Donna, trust me. Just trust me, we need to go inside." Rory guided her up from the ground, taking the painting supplies from her hands and setting them on the ground before leading her across her lawn and into his house.

"I…I really don't know what came over me." As Rory was making tea, Donna stood in the kitchen behind him, a hand against her head. "I dunno, I just…I saw my front door, and I thought there was something wrong with it."

"Like, it ought to be blue?" Rory said, a gentle smile in his eyes.

"Oh, shut up," Donna muttered; Rory took the kettle off and turned off the heat. "I don't know what happened. I just stopped, and suddenly I thought…" She was silent a few moments; the teacups clattered under Rory's hands in the cupboard as he turned about to look at her in concern. "My front door is blue."

"Yeah, now I reckon it—Donna?" Rory was at her side in a flash; taking her by the shoulders and staring into her eyes. "Donna? Donna, are you okay?" She was unresponsive, but still able to stand; Rory managed to walk her to the sofa and lay her down. Her brow was damp with sweat; he fetched her a cloth, soaked it in cool water and put it to her forehead.

"Doctor," she murmured; Rory could see her eyes spinning every direction beneath her eyelids, and he stroked her hand gently.

"I'm here, Donna," he said softly.

"_Doctor!_" she repeated urgently; Rory felt a chill run down his spine as the truth dawned on him. No one said 'doctor' like that…no one who didn't know him.

"It's okay—get up, Rory."

Rory's astonishment was soothed into a secure sense that all would be well at his voice; standing, he turned to see the Doctor there, tipping his Stetson to him.

"Doctor," he breathed in disbelief. The man acknowledged him with a curt nod, but pushed him aside and began to examine Donna, first with his eyes, then with his screwdriver.

"Donna," he whispered gently into her ear. "Donna Noble, you brilliant Earth Girl, did the Ponds have too much residual temporal energy in them? That is _so_ them. They woke you up. Oh…Donna, I am sorry. I am…so sorry. You aren't ready yet."

As Rory watched the one-sided exchange, he heard the Doctor's voice falter and—that couldn't be a tear falling from his eye, could it?

"She's fine, now," the Doctor said, shaking Rory from his reflections. "You and Amy, traveling with me so long, you've got temporal energy all over you. I needed to block it out from her—it jogged her memory, and that is a dangerous thing to do."

"What happened to her?" Rory asked as the Doctor stood. "What could be so terrible, you can't let her remember?"

The Doctor sighed, meeting Rory's eyes with ones filled with remorse. "Me," he replied simply. "Centurion, if she ever remembers me completely…just don't let it happen, Rory. As long as Donna's around you, you don't know me. Amy doesn't know me. Donna doesn't know me. I _don't exist_."

Rory wasn't sure exactly how to respond; finally, however, he offered a weak smile and nodded. "Fine," he said. "If that protects Donna, you don't exist."

"Don't tell Amy I was here," the Doctor ordered. "The less impact I leave here, the better." After a few moments, he conceded. "And when you tell her anyway, tell her I say hello."

"Will do," Rory said with a smile.

It had begun to rain. As they stepped outside, Rory and the Doctor cast a glance to Donna's doorway; the paint was running from the wood of the doorway down onto the stoop below, and then into the grass, where it seeped out and was dissipated into nothing.

"The TARDIS," Rory murmured thoughtfully. "She was remembering the TARDIS."

"And now it's washing away," the Doctor replied. "Rain washes away the bad things. It's best I leave when it comes."

"Shut up," Rory said, rolling his eyes as he clapped the Doctor on the shoulder. "I'm sure that whatever happened with her, even if it _is_ your fault—" the Doctor managed to crack a smile at that, "—you made it better. You gave us this house…just so we could look after her?"

"You're a nurse," the Doctor pointed out.

"A doctor," Rory corrected; the Doctor grinned ear-to-ear.

"Well, then! It's only right that a _doctor_ stay here to look after two of my best friends in the world."

Rory laughed, rolling his eyes again. "I haven't got a sword, mate, but I do my best."

The Doctor smiled. "I'll see you around, Centurion."

"And you, Doctor."

With one final smile the Doctor turned his back to Rory, tipping his Stetson over his eyes and walking back to his TARDIS. As Rory heard the sounds of the TARDIS fade into silence, he heard Donna stirring in the kitchen.

"Oi! Tea's gone cold!"

Rory smiled, imagining Donna and the Doctor in the TARDIS. She'd have kept him on his toes.

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><p><strong>;D<strong>

**Hoping it wasn't total rubbish :) reviews are always encouraged!**

**XOXO,  
>Bella<br>**


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